I loved her deeply, but adoring eyes hid things from me that others could clearly see. With a heart of sincerity I truly loved her, but in agonizing retrospect, she never loved me. I thought we transcended together through open communication and excellent intimacy. I thought she understood the depths of me; my love, my hopes, my pain, my anxiety. I thought I had found warmth in her, and heavenly tranquility — but it was a fallacy and not a beautiful mystery that I wanted to be true and held onto so desperately. Memories fade, and it was twice I was betrayed; first, by my own heart and my own eyes, then by the woman who wore a beautiful disguise who kissed me passionately and told me that she loved me as she looked into my eyes.